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the call to action :
like prehistory’s most compelling protagonists howling out from the austere tar pits in which they are mercifully entombed

/free my fossilized flesh!/
the carbonized ghosts clamor-
and we will .
we will choke out the whole of our stupefied brood with the breath of their ancient bowels respirating, anew
in ash and motion .
in the name of each family’s future

Power
is a trade.

yet
lambs and other extant specimens do not participate in  this same barter.

their deals are shorter and more sincere:
/ at least leave me the sky - /

/no./ the reanimated ancestral cloud billows,
/all is a dome, beyond which, none may gaze/

/ be still and pose gracefully within the god-dome of our love./
brain bombs obliviate_all signs of life in the city sqs.as all god-oid methods live on as a convenientandeffectivethreat levied bysquabbling heirs to her cold multitude of rancid throne-rooms/do you want to survive?
        the slow-panting dog shadow leans in closer, still,
/learn to dance the night.  … .. ….. … .. .. .. .

sleeping predictably, the city is at last disemboweled in favor of a new and ****-less being -
   all parking spaces, finally free.
To be so uncomfortable
in the present moment
as to rush to get to the next one
Dancing like feet
touching hot coals
A machine of perpetual  motion
Dreams built of cloud and dust
All my fears corrode to rust
The past filled with pain and lust
There isn't a man that I can trust.

Leaving this world behind,
I don't need eyes to see
The truth is hidden from the blind,
but it is clear to me.

Developing as a whole,
being filled with emptiness,
I grew myself out of a whole,
A beautiful part of the abyss.

My eyes filled with love,
look into yours,
all I see is lifelessness
I'm sad that you can't see value in me
Misguided by your selfishness

To be great is a secret
Until that secret is revealed
I sweat and grit in all my labor,
hoping my beauty will be unveiled.

So let's cheer to this moment, let's sip some wine,
let's cheer to this lonely abyss,
for what it has brought fourth is so divine
that we must taste it's emptiness.
Out and about
random memories pop in my head
I just wander, feeling defeated

Trying to relax
sometimes I become distracted
by misty thoughts, thick like clouds

I become proud as my mind becomes silent
And walk away

Feeling the comfort and security
That nobody's thinking about me
My soul heavy, chasing material desires
Frustrated by the iron chains that hold me down
Heavy on me,
sinking me
into hot
scorching
magma.

As I try to become more and more God-like,
I get filled with more emptiness
more nothingness
I cremate
into ashes
and scatter across the void

I feel the horror
and anger
and fear
and whatever it is
and an inability to understand.

I feel paranoid
and confused
and just wished it was all clear

I feel stupid

And I'm sorry.
I think I felt sorry for not understanding spirituality
my best friends are
in my bed
it’s too hot,
with four teenagers
crammed together on
a twin sized mattress

a bad movie plays on
the too-small T.V. screen
we laugh and kick and
yell. my head is on the
shoulder of a boy I’ve loved
since I was eleven.

I raise my camera
flash
and capture those I love most
in a jar of
my warmest memories
where the self-contained creatures go to -
_
under the rug-shaped lash-lines blinking
dusty, with rashes made out of lifetimes in
fluctuation and
actuality.we sweep our history away in
little tidy circular brush
stokes
struck out against
the toothy
grin
of
these so-named
"Life's about the journey
Not the destination"
Well pardon me
But I have a question,
What if the journey
Isn't worth the destination?
Follow me
Maybe somewhere in here is a lesson
...
The finish line is a dreamy fantasy
It has to be
Because the in-between
Of point A and point B
Has almost killed plenty
Literally a step away
From creating
A new ending
To a journey
No one would want to remember
Much less mention
One with no connection
To the original destination
There's now not worth the journey

©2024
Or something like that.....,
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